I decided kind of late to participate in NaBloPoMo, but as I said recently – I have a plan. At least for the writing part. I want to take this opportunity to meet some more bloggers as well.
Yesterday, of course, was Halloween. It’s a very quiet holiday here. I imagine on the upper road there are trick or treaters, but down here where it’s dark and far between houses, we get none. I miss them.
Today’s story is about the last time I went trick or treating.
Trick or treating in our little suburb was, as they say, safe as houses. From an early age we hit all the houses on the surrounding blocks and pretty much everyone had a pumpkin on their doorstep and the porch light on. Store bought costumes were a rarity back then. We were ghosts and witches and hobos and nearly all costumes had to be able to be worn under or over a warm winter coat.
The year that I was ten was extra special because I was being allowed to trick or treat with my best friend Lezlie. She used to live, with her mom and sister Annie, at the end of my block. When they moved, I only got to see Lez once in a while. She used to come over to spend the night and then get all worried about her little sister and have to go home. She also had that 40 pound cat Jasper that I’ve written about in the past. Jasper used to lay on the top of the television and his tummy would roll over either side.
As soon as it got dark, Lez and I headed out all by ourselves to canvas the neighborhood. We hit the nearby houses and those on the next streets, but then I had the very good extra fun wonderful idea of walking down the main street through our neighborhood to the beginning of the subdivision and working our way back up to my street. It was epic. Our bags got too full and we had to beg new bags. Never has there been a Halloween haul like this.
Unfortunately, as a ten year old I had no real sense of time. For no good reason, as far as I was concerned, our parents got worried and headed out in the car to find us – eventually coming across Lez and me on our way back toward home. We were far out of the area my parents had considered they had given us permission to go and far, far later than they considered reasonable.
My punishment was to never be allowed to go trick or treating again. Some forty-odd years later I still think it was unreasonable. A punishment that lasted for years until I was too old to trick or treat anyway. I understand things now that I did not then but there remains a piece of that ten year old who will never agree with that decision.